Will Herondale, you don't know what you're missing
by whoneedsusernames
Summary: "I'm just trying to get you to see, Emmy," he said. "Will Herondale is not even slightly suitable for you." At the funeral in TCA, the unnamed Lightwood daughter reflects on her scandalous romance with Will, under the protective gaze of her brother. R&R


"Her name's Tessa." Gabriel said quietly, his hand on her back, light as a feather, "and he is quite obviously infatuated with her."

Emmeline shrugged, tossing her hair off of her face and shooting her nose into the air. "Honestly, Gabe," she said, just as softly, but with infinitely more disdain, "I cannot see _why_ you think I'd be even remotely interested to hear that."

He looked irritated by her words, but he kept his composure, "I'm just trying to get you to see, Emmy," he said. "Will Herondale is not even slightly suitable for you."

Her eyes on the graceful figure of the young man in question, Emmeline scoffed slightly, "I don't think Will is suited for anybody at all, Gabe." The words were spoken deprecatingly, but- curse it!- Emmeline couldn't drag her eyes from him, even as she said them. The white of the mourning clothes made his hair seem even blacker- the inky blue of his eyes was the only spot of colour on him. Curse him, but he was beautiful. And they'd been a lovely couple- for a moment. Her coppery hair and sloe black eyes had complemented his colouring to perfection.

But Will hated perfection.

"You're staring, Em," Gabe muttered darkly.

Emmeline raised an eyebrow, "You're _obsessing,_ Gabe." She said mockingly, "I'm just observing him… are you sure he's in love? He looks very much the same as always."

"Well, Em, men in love don't exactly wander around with their jackets on back-to-front, or with 'ROMANTIC' tattooed across their foreheads." Gabriel said, irritably, his tone rising above its previous whisper. Emmeline could almost feel the glare of their father. An occasion such as this, and they dared to _gossip_? At a _funeral_? How would such behaviour look to the Clave?

But Emmeline could not bring herself to be well behaved- not ever. She found decorum stifling. And in a situation such as this, she thought it better not to pay too much heed to circumstance.

If she were to really think about what they were doing, all standing around in their white clothes, like a rather ungainly flock of doves, she'd probably cry, and that wouldn't do. Not in front of Will, anyway.

"Emmeline, dearest!" a voice came from her left. Emmeline turned.

Jessamine looked lovely in white, and she knew it. Her dimples were out in full force, and her eyes were sparkling, despite her obvious attempt for a sombre expression.

"Jessamine- how well you look in mourning," Emmeline said, with a wry smile. Gabe made a strangled noise and pinched her arm.

But Jessie seemed unaffected by her friend's rudeness, "and of course the same _must_ be said for you, Emmy. How lovely your dress is- you, more than anyone I know, have _such_ an appreciation for the more.. timeless styles." The word 'timeless' seemed to cause Jessie some distress, for her lip curled most sarcastically as she said it, "it must be very lovely to not feel compelled to .. keep up with the fashions. No doubt it leaves you with _much_ more time to pursue other activities."

Emmeline smiled tightly. Jessamine never tired of talking about just how much style and modernity Emmeline's wardrobe lacked. But if she thought that such snide comments would bother Em, she was sadly mistaken.

"I think Em looks rather lovely, Jessie," a kind voice said from behind Jessamine, "and that dress looks a perfect cut for her."

James Carstairs looked well- better than usual. Em rarely noticed how good looking he actually was, under all that pallor. Standing next to Will often made people seem drab… perhaps it was for the best that she and he rarely spoke- she hated to look drab.

"Why, thankyou, James," she said now, with a little bob of a curtsey, "such a kind thing to say. Of course, one could never compare to Jessie's dress- such lovely lace.. and the trimming, so elegant." Jessamine primped rather irritatingly, Emmeline curved her lips into an innocent smile, "it is _such_ a pity about the way it sits. Not to worry, Jessie, few people can _really_ pull off that fashion."

"Em," Gabriel said quietly from her side, "please at least _try_ to be civil." In the same breath, he looked condescendingly over at James, "Carstairs- shouldn't you be cleaning up after that imbecile you call your parabatai?"

"Surely you can't miss the irony in that statement?" Emmeline laughed, unable to contain her amusement, "perhaps you ought to follow your own advice, Gabe." Her eyes drifted back to Will, "be _civil_."

"Is something the matter here?" Em's father's voice was soft, but as always, Benedict Lightwood had a glint of steel in his tone which hinted at untimely ends for those who displeased him.

"Not at all, father," Em smiled tightly up at him, "James, Jessie, Gabe and I were just reflecting on the week's events."

"In particular," Jessie's pretty dimpled smile was wolfish, "the arrival of the lovely Miss Gray to our Institute. She has settled in _so_ well- Will just _adores_ her."

Em did not bat an eyelid, though her eyes flicked, tragically, predictably, to Will, who looked distracted and lovely, staring broodingly off into the distance. "Most everything female is adored by Will, for a time," she said, affecting a disinterested tone, "I pity this girl, if she takes his fleeting interest in the novel for actual affection."

Her father's eyes fell swiftly onto her, and she could almost feel the frown tugging his lips into a scowl. He hated the idea that she'd had anything at all to do with Will, and while he could almost believe her protestations that they'd never even spoken, he still stiffened up when she mentioned his name.

Now, battling to maintain his calm demeanour, he sniffed. "Of all of the week's events to talk of," he said contemptuously, "you choose the presence of an… _interloper_ in the Clave." His eyes turned to stone. "Have some respect. Think of where you are- and for God's sake, if you speak of that imbecilic little lout again in my presence, I will arrange for you all to be shipped off to the Siberian Clave, where I won't have to listen to your gossiping."

With that, he turned sharply away from the young Shadowhunters. Em gave a sad smile- her poor father. He'd been so distracted of late- and he'd lost friends in this past fight. Through it all, he was strong- after all, he was used to it- but he was not yet used to his daughter's reputation being dragged through the dirt, and so the mention of Will was enough to make the veins in his forehead pulse.

And that was nothing compared to Gabe's reaction, of course.

Gabe who _knew_ that Em's impassioned denials of any sort of association with Will were false. Gabe who'd seen them together that first day. Thinking back on it all, Em realised that it was Gabe's horrified reaction to the sight of her and Will, backed into a corner, faces close together, which had inspired her erstwhile beau's passion.

After all, their first kiss had been an accident. She'd tried to move around him, he'd overbalanced, and they'd ended up pressed against a doorway. He'd moved back straight away.

It was only when Will realised that Gabe disapproved that he actually took a real (if fleeting) interest in Em.

No, Gabe couldn't stand to see Em watching Will Herondale- but he would never ever bear her speaking about him _longingly_. He hissed through his teeth and grabbed her arm, yanking her back a little from Jem.

"Oh, Gabe." Jessamine tittered, not even remotely cowed by Benedict Lightwood's outburst. "Not in a good mood, are we?" Jem silenced her with a look, but Gabe didn't care. His eyes were on Em's.

As she watched, his temper fled, replaced with lethargy and exasperation. She pitied him, a little. He really cared far too much about her reputation. Much _much_ more than she ever had. But more than that- he cared about her. He cared about her feelings, and he'd hated to see Will tear them to shreds.

"Miss Gray," he said, recalling their previous conversation. "Yes, Miss Gray- that _does_ sound familiar." He met Jessie's eyes. "She's the plain one, isn't she? Dark hair? Sort of mousy. And such an awkward height- have I got that right?"

Jessie opened her mouth, but it was Jem –quiet Jem- who responded. "No, I think not." He said, tone harder than usual. "Tessa is the brave one- the beautiful one with the indomitable spirit. Perhaps you're thinking of somebody else."

Gabe, flushing a little with anger, turned to answer, but was distracted by Jessie's quiet trill of delight. A sweet and pretty noise _completely_ inappropriate considering the circumstances, and which attracted the negative attention of the surrounding adults. "Oh _look_!" she said, hushing her usual exuberance after a frown from Charlotte. "Will's coming."

Now it was Em's turn to flush. She hadn't seen Will since that last night- when that awful maid with the scar had 'accidentally' stumbled across them, dragging Charlotte and Em's father behind her. Em remembered the scuffle, the rush to right herself, furiously tugging her bodice closed as her other hand smoothed down her hair. She remembered the gasp- the shocked silence. Then the roar of rage from her father. She saw again the malicious smile on the maid's face as she watched Will, remembered Charlotte's disbelief and her father's anger.

And she remembered turning to Will, remembering his words ('you're beautiful- I can't think why they've hidden you from the world- from me') and waiting for his declaration. Because _surely_ he loved her. _Surely_ he cared. But he'd just met her gaze and shrugged ruefully.

And Em's heart had shattered. But Lightwoods _never_ get their hearts broken, or so Gabe had told her, and so Em had squared her shoulders, and faced their accusers with indignation. What was the problem? Will was only trying to help her find her hairclip- it'd fallen on the floor and she was so _loathe _to return to the dinner party without it. He'd been helping her! Surely they hadn't thought…But she could _never_ do such a thing! And with a Herondale? What did they think she was, a trollop?

And she'd wept in outrage, and demanded an apology, and she'd produced the hairclip, which Will had found just as they walked into the room ('He was _handing_ it to me, father. Nothing more. It was under the cushion..') And she'd sneered at everybody with such perfect, such cruel disdain that they'd all agreed. She couldn't possibly have done such a thing- everybody knew that she thought Will an utter wastrel. They all knew that she wanted more than that.

Lies. Lies lies lies. She'd told them so well, she almost believed them herself. Until, of course, she'd met Will's gaze, and he'd seemed so very _approving_. 'Well done'. His eyes said. 'Well played.'

And that had been that. Surely, she didn't care, not now. Not after so long. Surely her cheeks didn't redden at the sight of him, surely the sound of his voice didn't make her feel lightheaded.

Except that it did.

And she _hated_ herself for it.

"Jessie, Jem." She heard him say, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, before relaxing them. "Charlotte is keen to go, now. And I agree- we needn't stay longer."

He was close- so _close_. Didn't he care about how near she was to him? Didn't he notice?

"Yes, well." Gabe said through gritted teeth, "we all know how you'd _prefer_ to be spending this time, Herondale." Em felt her flush subside a little- hopefully she looked halfway composed. "Belly up with a whore between your legs." Gabe muttered, and Em opened her eyes in shock.

"Gabriel," she chastised lightly, "at a _funeral_? Really?"

She could practically feel Will's gaze on her, and her heart skipped a beat.

"It's only the truth, Emmeline." Gabe spat, "as you _very_ well know."

So much for looking composed. Em felt as though she'd been slapped. "Yes, well, true or not, a funeral is _not_ the place for that." She said lightly. "How Mr Herondale enjoys spending his time is absolutely none of our concern."

_Lies_. What would he say? Would he deny it? Agree? Did he feel pain at her words? Was he offended?

Would he kiss her again? Oh, _please_ let him kiss her again! Even here, even now, so long as she knew that he'd missed her just as she'd missed him.

"Yes, indeed." Will drawled, "I could hardly have put it better myself."

Em felt herself sigh.

Of course. How could she have thought he would react differently? Feeling suddenly weary, she lifted her eyes to meet Will's, to see that final rejection in them.

But he wasn't looking at her. He didn't even care enough to glance her way. Instead, his gaze was unfocused, directed back across London, to the institute and the 'mousy' girl who waited for him there.

As if to cement this conviction, Will sighed and turned to Jem. "We really _should_ get back." He said, "Tessa's all alone, and…"

"Of course." Jem agreed, turning back to Em and Gabe. "Gabriel, Miss Lightwood." He said with a kind smile and a nod.

Jessie followed suite with a saccharine farewell that left an awful taste in Em's mouth.

Will didn't say goodbye. She didn't think he was being malicious. More likely, he simply didn't _think_ of it. He could be so dense, like that.

She knew when he was gone; she _felt_ him leave, and she hated herself for being quite so pathetic.

Still, she hoped he'd turn around- smile at her in that beautiful way that he used to, his face lit up, as though her presence was all that he needed.

But then, he probably smiled at them all like that. That smile belonged to Tessa Gray, now.

"Are you ready to go, then? Gabe's voice sounded far away. "We've paid our respects- I don't want to stay here longer than we need. Emmeline?"

Em shook such thoughts from her head, watching Will's retreating figure with wistfulness. So. To Tessa Gray he went. Em hoped that _she_ was strong enough to bear the devastation Will would cause. But in any case, that was hardly Em's problem. Will had made that quite clear by his lack of regard.

"Emmeline?" Gabe was watching her, looking worried. Sometime during her daydream, Gideon had approached, and his eyes moved from Em to Will's retreating figure with knowing disgust. She embarrassed him, clearly.

Em felt her cheeks flush a little. She would _never_ be an embarrassment. "Yes?" she asked, keeping her voice light and chipper. "Are we going?"

"We are." Benedict Lightwood had approached too, and stood behind her, his strong hand on her shoulder. "It is time to leave all of this behind us and focus on the future."

Em's eyes went back to Will one more time. If he turned around, she'd run to him. To hell with her family honour, and to hell with reputation. If he'd take her, she'd go with him. But he didn't turn. He just ran a hand through his gleaming hair and, as though shaking off a bad thought, shrugged his shoulders before getting into the carriage.

Fine then. It would be that way- and see if she cared. The next time Will saw her, she'd be aloof and contemptuous- the way she'd always pretended to be.

"Yes, father." She repeated, and though she could feel tears pricking the corner of her eyes, her voice remained steady. "Lets leave this all behind."

And without another glance at her first love, Emmeline Lightwood sharply turned around, taking Gabe's arm and striding purposefully towards their carriage. "There's simply too much to do to bother focussing on the past, Gabe." She said quietly, when her brother made to speak. She could feel his displeasure, and with a smile, turned to him, quirking one eyebrow up. "Oh, _please_, Gabe. Don't actually say you _pity_ me." She laughed quietly. "As though Will Herondale is so special."

"Please, Em." Gabe said warningly. "Please _do_ forget him- he's far out of your league."

Em paused and looked back at her brother. "I think _not_, Gabe." She said dryly. "In fact, I'd say the opposite. I'd say _I'm_ far out of _his._" Her eyes were dragged once more back to Will's carriage, now moving along towards the Institute- towards Tessa Gray.

"Will Herondale." She whispered to herself. "You have _no_ idea what you're missing." Gabe over heard her, and though he obviously found the sentiment a little distasteful, he seemed pleased that she was moving on.

He turned to speak to Gideon for a moment, and behind his back, Em's mouth curved into a malicious smile. "You don't know what you're missing." She whispered. "But I intend to see that you find out."


End file.
